Three men and a dog traipse the Scottish west coast with just a teepee for protection and lobster sandwiches for lunch.

WORDS JOE DELVES

Not as high as the Grampians, the remote Torridon hills promise something different. Lying north of the Great Glen Fault, they’re a huge slab of sandstone, pockmarked, covered in lakes, and cut into by the encroaching sea.

Located at the base of Scotland’s wild north-west coast, I’d heard this little inhabited wilderness mentioned enough to suspect a visit might be worthwhile – even though I live in London and it would mean driving from one end of one country to the other end of another.

Playing at being a freewheeling bike journalist, a plan was devised for a cost-neutral trip north. This would involve sleeping in car parks, washing in service stations, and other minor hardships, but should allow for ten days of guilt-free roadtripping. Roping in two friends who, despite having proper jobs, didn’t find that prospect disgusting, we also requisitioned a teepee normally used for family holidays, so wouldn’t be entirely without luxury. Taking up the last of the boot space, as if three men smushed into a car for over a thousand miles wasn’t a pleasant enough prospect, would be an excitable pointer named Senna.

UK ADVENTURE

PHOTOGRAPHY JOE DELVES

The long road north.

Two days spent driving north means our trip starts with a greatest hits playlist of UK scenery. Rolling and picturesque in the Chilterns, chocolate-boxy in the Peaks, rugged in the Lakes, and wild in the Trossachs. Typically for what is my summer holiday the weather gets wilder too, and by the time we finally make it to Torridon the fact that it’s August seems to have become irrelevant. Backed by high hills and facing out onto an expanse of saltwater lochs, the area is quite capable of producing its own weather, and what it’s producing is grizzly. As a result, when we arrive, half our intended campsite is flooded, while the rest has been torn up by campervan tyres. With no area of non-sodden ground large enough for the tepee, we divide ourselves between the car and a small tent. Still, costing only whatever donation you fancy leaving, there’s a shower block with the comfort of warm water and flushing loos.

The following morning we eat breakfast on the waterfront before heading back inland. With Senna having been cooped up overnight in the car with his owner he’s chomping at the bit, even if the rest of us are feeling beaten up by the journey. Still, despite mist sitting on the hills we decide the best thing is to get stuck in.